


A Garden in Bloom

by Arlana



Series: Semi Eita Week [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Established Relationship, Fantasy-esque, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Not Beta Read, Self Indulgent Ramblings, Temporary Character Death, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27931918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlana/pseuds/Arlana
Summary: Semi knows that marrying solely for love is a rare luxury amongst the aristocracy; as unfortunate as it was he had always known that his future lied in politics. Love was something not even all the wealth of the lands could truly buy.But it doesn’t hurt to continue to hope, does it?
Relationships: Semi Eita & Shirabu Kenjirou, Semi Eita & Tendou Satori, Semi Eita/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Series: Semi Eita Week [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993978
Comments: 15
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the first day of Christmas Arlana gave to me...UshiSemi angst?
> 
> A expanded and more fleshed out fic from a thread I posted on Twitter because I actually got a lot of good ideas for it and I was feeling angsty. I wanted to hold off on posting this before Semi Eita week was decided...but since it's still up in the air I said fuck it and I'll post this first bit and work on it in the coming month or so.

_Looks like they're done_ , Semi muses into his cup, watching curiously through the floor to ceiling window of his private study as the last of their guests depart for the day. Ushijima stood at the doors accompanied by a recently hired guard, playing the part of the perfect host as well as ever, seeing them out with a reserved smile and nod. His comely features and genuine words likely assuring their guests that he would see to whatever topic they had brought to him and remedy it if need be.

He was their King after all.

Turning away he sets down his cup of tea beside the vase of flowers Ushijima had presented to him days ago, the stray petal of a rose flutters down to kiss his hand. Picking up a thick overflowing folder Semi returns to his mountain of work. Busying himself with other pressing official duties; shifting through official paperwork and reviewing submitted documents, approving or rejecting proposals, until the light grew scarce and he was forced to turn on the desk lamp.

Pressing the stamp onto the stack of paper, Semi gently lifts it away to reveal his ornate personal royal seal. He gently blows a breath over it, watching as the ink darkened to a royal violet before sliding the folder into a growing pile to be brought to Ushijima for his review and approval, reminding himself to finally drop it off at his husband's study before dinner.

He takes a moment to rest, leaning back to stretch his back and working out the stiffness of his neck as he observed the last wisps of golden Autumn sunlight fade behind the horizon.

It had been growing brisk lately and Semi is reminded that his birthday is fast approaching.

Huffing out a breath and filing that thought away for later worries Semi returns to his mound of paperwork. He is only able to begin on another funding request before a knock at the door catches his attention.

“Come in.” He calls.

A palace staff members pokes her head through the door, “Dinner will be ready soon. Where would you liked to be served Your Majesty?”

Humming Semi sets down the page he was skimming, “What did Wakatoshi say?”

“His Majesty has left the decision to you.”

He raises a brow, Ushijima had been doing that a lot lately, “We'll have them in our private parlor then. Thank you, Ami.”

“Of course.” She bows once more before making her exit, closing the door silently behind her.

He supposes that was his cue to go find his King and husband and drag him off to dinner.

Cleaning up after a long day of paperwork has never been something Semi had been found of. He wasn't sure how it happened, but he always managed to make a mess of his too large desk. He was prone to having things disappear if he did not tidy up at least once a day. Important documents and folders would get buried under the mountain of papers or misplaced only to turn up at the end of the day. On more than one occasion he had been in a panicked search for papers and had knocked everything off his desk.

(Semi tries to not use magical artes to fix his messes for him—it would only take a flick of his wrist to have it done—as tempting as it were, he knows that he should make the effort to do the cleaning the hard way.)

Swiping the stack of folders off his desk and turning out the lamp Semi exits his study, happy to not have to set foot inside again until morning. His feet automatically guide him down the winding hallways, expertly navigating with ease while he continued to review the documents—again.

He comes to a halt at the elegantly carved double doors that separated the rest of the world from their king. Semi firmly knocks on the heavy oak, thrice in rapid succession and then once more, before twisting the handle and entering.

“Eita.” Ushijima greets, barely sparing a glance at him, engrossed in his own work. He shuffles through a stack of folders, searching for something as Semi approached.

“Here,” Semi replies in lieu of a proper response, setting his stack neatly to the side on the desk, “these are going to require your attention soon. It’s not urgent but I’d like to have them sorted out within the next week.”

“If course. I’ll look at them after dinner.”

Semi bites back an unappealing snort, “You really should find a healthier work-life balance—or at least as much of one as you can.”

“I will consider it.” Is the automatic reply as Ushijima offers him a small smile.

An airy laugh bubbles up from Semi's chest as he shook his head. They'd had this exact conversation nearly once a week for over a year now, so often so that it was more or less routine. Semi still chided Ushijima when he catches him burning the midnight oil, though by now he knew that Ushijima's habit was not likely to change anytime soon, no matter how much Semi tried. Still, it felt rather nice to have something privy just to them.

Perching himself in a nearby seat he watches in comfortable silence as Ushijima continued to work away.

They had been married for some time now, after a long and slow courtship hinging on the delicate negotiations and politics of all parties involved, and after many minor details had been ironed out and more or less carved in stone. And by all accounts and means it was a pleasant and befitting relationship, they were as much of a success story as one could imagine. They got along splendidly and Semi held no complaints about his spouse and continued to find nothing disagreeable. Quite honestly they were well matched for sucess and although arranged and despite what one might have assumed otherwise Semi had always held a flickering flame of affection for Ushijima Wakatoshi. A flame which had only swelled since their meeting, engulfing his heart in its scorching warmth of love and devotion.

Semi who had never really understood wanting until he met Ushijima found himself wanting everything that the other would give him. He wanted capture his attention so fully that Ushijima would never find anything else quite as enthralling. To be the one that Ushijima's eyes would always gravitate toward, to spend every last fleeting second he could with him, to carve out a space that fitted only him in Ushijima's heart.

To make himself irreplaceable.

Ushijima had captured his attention from the moment they first met. When Semi was still awfully weary of his potential husband-to-be and rightly concerned about the potential of being married off to some stuck-up prince with an ego—or even worse, a God complex. Instead, what he came face-to-face with was a quiet, intimidating yet gentle giant of a prince. One with impeccable manners and less than stellar social skills. But perhaps that was what endeared him so greatly to Semi in the first place.

Ushijima hadn't been interested in the proposal either, more concerned with the tangible goods he could do for his people and creating a better quality of life for the population. He had large simple wishes and a heart to match.

It had been a refreshing attitude that piqued Semi's interest. If not spouses then he was sure they could become good friends instead.

They had become close as they grew. With trips between their kingdoms becoming frequent and many, Semi had even begun staying for longer periods, inserting himself into the daily routine of the palace he would eventually call his home.

Ushijima always welcomed him back with open arms and warm hugs and chaste kisses to his cheek, effortlessly sweeping Semi off his feet without even realizing it. Stealing pieces of Semi's heart each time they met. They spent their days together with friends, easily melding together and before he had realized, Semi found himself rather delighted at the idea of marriage to Ushijima. Going as far as presenting him with a hand-crafted charmed ring—a traditional gift for the truly enamored in his kingdom. And for his part it seemed as if Ushijima returned those affections.

But oh, how _wrong_ he was.

Nothing had changed from their early days and the longer it wore on the more Semi began to believe that nothing would. They had come to a standstill—maybe perhaps they always had been at one—locked forever in a dance more reminiscent of newly courting strangers than spouses. Ushijima's affections never grew from the budding blossom, it remained tightly wound and closed off from Semi's attempts. He did not treat Semi with anymore love than necessary in their duties and that was what pained him the most.

Had Semi imagined it all?

Ushijima still pressed soft and chaste kisses to his lips and cheeks, without the grimace or forced stiffness of a marriage only of convenience and politics, and he still oft gifted him many little things as if they were still a shyly courting couple. It was those acts that would have convinced many they were so genuinely and ardently in love. And if Semi closed his eyes and pretended hard enough, he would believe it too.

Yet, Ushijima was also still just as coolly formal and distant as ever. He did nothing to bridge the remaining distance after they were wed, the chasm between them only growing wider as each day passed on by and Ushijima remained impossibly unmovable. Only to be filled with a yearning hollow ache that stifled all other thoughts, consuming every last drop of love Semi had to give with nothing in return.

It hadn't always felt like this. But Semi could seldom remember a time before the suffocating sting of love thrummed through his body whenever he looked at him.

Him, the man who was his husband in all but heart it seemed.

Perhaps he was a better actor than Semi had ever credited him for.

The sharp sound of a pen making contact with wood stirs Semi from his reverie.

“Shall we?” Ushijima inquires, standing from his perpetually neat desk and making his way over to Semi. He offers a hand to which Semi graciously accepts, allowing himself to be pulled up and led out the door.

A large warm hand settles itself on his back as they begin their walk, a gentle gesture Semi had grown accustomed to from their courting days. Ushijima had often guided him along the hallways or garden hand resting on Semi's back to ensure he would not be lost. Despite the intimate and comforting nature of the action Ushijima maintains a respectable distance as they trotted along, as if he could not bear to be any closer.

They make some idle chatter as they walked along the hallways to their private dining room, running through their endless list of duties and work and occasionally sharing the more mundane personal moments of their day. Ushijima was a hard worker, a fact that Semi had been aware of prior to their marriage, and he often decided to return to his duties when he should have been resting and leisurely enjoying himself.

Semi wonders if Ushijima could find it in himself to spare time for him if asked.

°°°

It is only under the dark and still cover of night, deep in the silence and seclusion of their bedroom does Semi's mind once again wander. Long buried thoughts and insecurities dragged to the surface as he studies the peaceful face of the man that slumbered beside him.

There were many reasons why anyone in their right mind would have fallen for Ushijima. Despite his unfortunately blunt and sometimes tactless nature he was kind and genuine, he wasn't the type of waste time with frivolous niceties and words when he could use time more productively. He had always given his all when it came to tending to the needs of the people, and they adored him for it. His good looks may have also aided him well in that department. In sleep the lines of his forehead smoothed out, giving him a much more relaxed and youthful look, olive brown locks slightly tousled and messier than the neatly combed and styled look Ushijima preferred on his day-to-day. A stark contrast to the stern-faced serious ruler most saw. He was breathtakingly handsome nonetheless and it was no wonder as to why he had always possessed so many admirers.

Even now, long after they were married there were plenty of courtesans that still vied for his attention and favor, parading themselves in the most subtle of ways, hoping to catch his eye and challenging what fragile hold Semi had on his husband's heart. It takes an inhuman amount of self-control to bite his tongue and smile each time, innocently pretending as if he doesn't see. The few especially spiteful and vindictive ones stir up rumors and whisperings in the ears of others, Semi pretends like he doesn't hear those either.

And yet, despite all the rumors and court gossip, the pitying looks and half smiles, Ushijima remained true and faithful, never once straying from their marriage. He was a dutiful husband through and through and Semi believed he could be satisfied as they were, turning a blind eye to all else so long as he could remain by his side and live the illusion of a loving marriage.

Semi knows that marrying solely for love is a rare luxury amongst the aristocracy; as unfortunate as it was he had always known that his future lied in politics. Love was something not even all the wealth of the lands could truly buy.

Heaving a heavy sigh Semi dares to shift closer, the warmth radiating from Ushijima drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He allows himself the small guilty pleasure of invading his husband's personal space and curling up flushed beside him, just to feel safe, surrounded by his strong heartbeat and presence. Only in the darkness of night does he allow himself this small indulgence with Ushijima none the wiser.

He’s too much of a coward to disrupt the little bit of normalcy they've cultivated to dare be so bold when they're both awake.

Semi doesn't think he’d be able to take the outright rejection.

Sleep comes as easy as ever, sweeping Semi off into a land where he and Ushijima lived as more than mere co-rulers caught in a sham marriage for politics and show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how long this fic will be since the thread was a decent length with plenty of room left to be fleshed out but I don't have a fic over 10k yet and I'd really like to hit that mark.
> 
> I want to try to keep to a regular updating schedule since I basically have the entire outline done and just need to embellish. I probably wont update again until January since I want to work on a happier and fluffier UshiSemi fic for UshiSemi day. And then maybe update this with a new chapter every other week? Maybe even weekly if I finish it fast enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I lied a little and decided I would update this at the last minute. A long chapter for a Christmas present I suppose.

Semi wakes on a chilled wintry morning alone to cooling sheets—a common occurrence in his daily routine. However, that morning proved to be anything but. A sudden tickling sensation in his chest morphs into a violent slew of coughs that rip themselves from his throat, startling and forcing him to double over the side of the bed. Scrambling, he heaves into a nearby waste bin; flower petals raining down with each shuddering breath as he purged his body.

Once the retching subsides Semi could only numbly stare, horrified, with his chest burning like fire and a pit forming in his stomach, bile once again rising up. The perfumed taste of flora overpowering and sickly sweet on his tongue. Delicate flowers laid crumpled, innocently in the bin and scattered all over the floor, their beautiful pastel colouring marred with specks of his blood. 

His blood runs cold. His vision blurs as a telltale wetness gather at his eyes. A choked sound leaves his constricting throat and Semi almost allows the tears to drop. Almost.

The nauseating swirl in his stomach intensifies, but he wills himself to keep down the rising lump in his throat, biting back the sobs.

_No._

Fighting back the debilitating panic Semi cleans himself up before calling for a doctor. He doesn't need a diagnosis. The taste of roses and carnations, strong and foul, and petals strewn about are more than enough proof. But he will take some solace in sharing this newfound development and condition with someone who will be sworn to silence.

It doesn't take long for Shirabu to arrive. He enters the room as irritable looking as ever, cool copper eyes narrowing once he takes in Semi's hunched over figure, still wearing his night clothes and holding his head in his hands as he sat at the foot of the overly large bed. Without a word he strolls over and lightly taps a shoulder, making his presence known. Semi visibly jumps.

Shirabu doesn't say anything, the beginning of a deep frown tugs at the corner of his lips. He carefully looks over Semi, finally noticing the puffy redness around his eyes and his shallow wheezing breathes. His pallor was less than healthy and he looked absolutely horrid for someone who supposedly got enough sleep every night. The room reeked like a garden in bloom with an acrid undernote. 

With firm hands he tugs away Semi's own clenched fists from where they resolutely guarded his chest, expecting to see a wound. There was nothing outwardly amiss with the area, the skin flawless and unbroken. Though the way he flinched when Shirabu touched him was troubling.

“Please excuse my touch.” Shirabu murmurs as a warning, before splaying his hands over Semi's chest and collar and going straight to work.

A warm tide of magick washes over Semi's chest from where Shirabu touched, spreading through his chest and down his torso. It was pleasant feeling, comparable to sunshine in the warming Spring months, homey and familiar. He allows his eyes to shut as his body relaxes, shoulder drooping and tension melting away.

Shirabu hums lightly as he works, closely scrutinizing the floating white orb in front of him, eyebrows slowly rising higher and higher the longer he looked.

The tentative tranquility is shattered when another coughing fit tears through Semi. He doubles over, hands flying up to cover his mouth as he gagged. Thankfully he does not heave up much more than a few stray petals, but the burn in his throat intensifies, searing with each ragged exhale. 

Shirabu is quick to offer him a handkerchief, which Semi gratefully accepts. “Semi-san…” he begins, face twisting into a concerned sour expression. As if the words perched in the tip of his tongue tasted vile.

Semi sighs, wiping his mouth, “I know.”

It was all the confirmation that he needed that he had been a pathetic lovesick fool all along. Perhaps hoping too hard for change would become his downfall. The irony was not lost on Semi.

“How long?” The question was sharp, accusatory. Shirabu foregoing any tact as a disquieting ire bubbled inside.

“Maybe an hour at best? I literally started coughing them up as soon as I woke up.” Any other time Semi might try to be cheeky. See how far he could push the other's buttons before he snapped, but even he could not muster up the strength to be a nuisance when he was still reeling from the discovery. “Called for you as soon as I could.”

“Have you had anything to eat?”

“Can't stomach anything right now. No one has seen me, and I asked only for you because I trust that you won't go spreading the new, hot, palace gossip now that you know.” Semi tries to joke, forcing a strained laugh. Shirabu was not at all impressed.

“We can begin trying to slow the growth.” A hand had raised and pressed itself against Semi's chest once more, a sudden scorching pain caused him to cry out. As quickly as it appeared it vanished, leaving behind a dull ache where Shirabu had touched, “I apologize for that, but there isn’t much else we can do.”

Rubbing at now tender flesh Semi raises a questioning brow.

“I’ve temporarily removed the plants growing inside you, they'll likely grow back within the next few days. Unfortunately, the process isn't completely painless, and there is risk of future scaring the more often it’s done, as well as increased advancement. In theory we can continue this forever but at worst we're only stalling.”

Semi chuckles, quite intrigued at the little feat of magic, “Well, I suppose you learn something new every day.”

“It isn't a common method, but I can find assistants as well as other staff to help in the future. I’ll make sure they won't say anything.”

Shaking his head Semi dismissed the thought, “That won't be necessary. I’d like to request that you become my sole physician from now on, if that's something you're interested in.” A thin brow quirks upward as Semi continued, “No one else needs to know about, this,” he makes a vague gesture at his chest, “and I don't plan on telling Wakatoshi either.”

Semi doesn't have to look to feel Shirabu's hard, disapproving gaze, “It’s him isn't it?”

A dry, humorless noise escapes Semi, “Who else would it be?”

“Then I don't see why you can’t tell him. I'd understand if it was someone else, but you've developed Hanahaki for your _husband_ for fuck's sake.”

Semi doesn’t have an answer for the obvious absurdity of his predicament. It wasn't something most could understand. It simply wasn't that easy of a fix.

“Semi-san…your petals are already gaining colour.” Shirabu voices, carefully inspecting one of the stray petals on the floor. “Normally, the petals are colourless, and only begin to gain color after the disease shows itself. It’s rare for the petals to have _any_ colour on the first appearance, since the onset is usually gradual. You're already displaying signs of advancing stages.”

“I’m aware of that much.”

“Then you must be aware of how concerning this is. It means that the disease has already rapidly progressed inside you.” Shirabu's voice slowly rose in pitch, betraying his calm and collected demeanor, “It would be—and I truly mean this—absolutely _stupid_ of you to not tell Ushijima-san. There’s no telling how soon before you—” He stops himself.

It was considered a bad omen to speak of death in the Winter months. An old superstition held over from days of yore when the harsh environment wasn't so forgiving in months of scarcity. While many had stopped believing in such tales, most still avoided speaking of the death of a prominent figure—and doubly so when it concerned the royal family—in Winter, lest someone meets an untimely end.

Heaving a sigh Semi stands and make his way over to his favourite tea set, pouring two cups from the perpetually warm pot, the mild earthy scent calming his nerves and soothing his raw throat, “You aren't incorrect about me being an idiot. But it is my life and body, and I don’t want Wakatoshi to know.”

“Ushijima-san will be worried.” Shirabu tries to reason, only to be met with a distant look.

Semi takes a small sip, “Whatever happens Shirabu, I want this to stay between us. Just us.”

Shirabu frowns, looking as if he wanted to protests but slowly nods anyways, eyes narrowed.

°°°

For months Semi is able to discreetly guard his new secret. It’s easy enough, given how commonplace wintertime chills are. Semi is able to disguise the disease as any number of typical illnesses. After all, even royalty can occasionally fall prey to the common cold.

Ushijima to his credit is very much an attentive husband, he notices the symptoms almost immediately after they appear. Quick to offer up his own handkerchief when Semi turns to suppress a cough, brows drawing together in concern has he presses a back of a hand against flushed cheeks, checking for a temperature.

It takes all Semi has to swallow the impending coughing fit when Ushijima leans in close, pressing lips to his forehead in another attempt to check for feverishness.

“You should rest more if you are feeling unwell.” He says, resting a hand on Semi's shoulder, “It would concern many if you were seriously ill.”

It suddenly felt like he was slapped in the face by icy winds, heart aching and heavy.

“Right. Of course.”

Because of course, his health was in the interest of many, not just Ushijima.

If he were ill it would only cause complications for Ushijima, who would no doubt feel the need to pick up the additional work of a bedridden, useless spouse. Semi’s health was a priority for the sake of their duties, nothing more nothing less. To care for him was to care for the future of the Kingdom, a necessary task in the life of a ruler.

An all too familiar prickle snakes around his heart, its thorny vines squeezing like a vice on each exhale, digging in and refusing to let go as he watched Ushijima walk away.

He barely makes to a waste bin this time.

°°°

He is caught once, when he was careless. And while not by Ushijima it was still one more person he'd hope to keep in the dark.

It was a bright and unusually warm Spring afternoon. Tendou, who had just returned home from spending time traveling abroad to hone his sweets making skill and satiating his wanderlust, had wasted no time in contacting them, eager to share his stories and see his best friend Ushijima. It had been a fantastic stroke of luck and Semi had cleared his and Ushijima's schedules as quickly as he could upon the news, somewhat eager himself to see the redhead for a change of pace.

Tendou spends the time regaling them with stories, animatedly waving his hands around and doing horrid impressions but Semi finds himself laughing anyways, momentarily forgetting his worries and the need to keep up an act. He allows himself to simply let go, shoulders dropping as he leaned back into the cushiony chair and enjoyed the company.

(Ruby red eyes had incessantly studied Semi throughout their lunch, barely leaving him while simultaneously holding a conversation with Ushijima. Were it anyone else Semi may have felt the prickling unease of scrutiny, but since it wasn't he is able to innocently ignore Tendou under the guise of pleasantries. Ushijima thankfully does not notice the strange air between them.

He had forgotten how annoyingly observant Tendou tended to be when something caught his eye.)

Ushijima is inevitably called away to inescapable afternoon meetings, leaving Tendou to drag Semi in a trip into the city. Where Tendou had insisted on exploring every nook and cranny of the shopping district, looking through windows and ooing and ahhing if he hadn't grown up in the area. He buys a handful of little things before they return to the palace, where Semi humors him in a long stroll through the gardens—one of Ushijima's own personal projects, having tended to the piece of land since childhood.

They had passed by a patch of violets and camellias when Semi feels the uncomfortable tickle in his chest. The feeling wells up, forcing it’s way up his throat, leaving a prickling sensation in its wake. Semi makes an attempt to swallow down the impending gag, the near constant overpowering saccharine taste of gardenia and roses clinging to the back of his throat sickening.

He manages muffle his cough in a hand, hastily ducking behind a budding shrub to wipe his mouth and discard the evidence before Tendou notices his absence.

Semi isn't quick enough.

“Semi Semi,” Tendou calls from behind. Stealthily appearing out of thin air, bright eyes wide and aghast and voice hardly above a whisper. His hand extended in concern.

Tendou no doubt sees the remnants of petals in his fist, as well as the ones suspiciously out of place on the ground, making the minuscule leap it required to come to a conclusion.

Semi knows that there was no use in hiding it. Anyone with a working brain cell knew what the Hanahaki disease looked like, and despite his airheadedness Tendou was wildly and acutely perceptive. There was no lie contrived or reasonable enough to fool him.

“Don't tell Wakatoshi. _Please.”_ Semi barely gets out, his heart racing so fast it threatened to leap from his chest. He was a prideful person—that much he could admit—and in most circumstances he'd rather eat dirt than admit his weakness to Tendou of all people, yet, in that moment Semi had never felt so small and _helpless._

“Eita—”

“ _Please Satori_.” He begs, surging forward to grasp Tendou's outstretched hand like a lifeline. He squeezes much more tightly than he should have, nails digging into the soft flesh, “He can’t know. Anything. I’ll do _anything_ you want, just don't tell him.”

Shock flits across the other’s features momentarily, before thin lips twist into a displeased frown. “Alright, but,” his eyes flick to meet Semi's pleading ones, as if unsure of his next words.

Semi gives another squeeze to the captured hand, “Anything Satori.”

He tries to offer a reassuring smile, but it was halfhearted at best. “Let’s sit down and talk first.”

“I—I can do that.”

They find a secluded corner, away from any unwanted prying eyes—guards had been dismissed as soon as they step foot in the garden to give as much privacy as possible, but one could never be too careful—and where even sunlight could barely reach. Semi beckons Tendou to sit as he casts a mild soundproofing arte. The shimmery wall of magick disappearing and leaving a faint white ring in the grass as the only proof that it was an active spell.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Tendou asks as soon as Semi turns to face him, brows drawn together in confusion. He was hurt.

Semi signs for umpteenth time that day, taking a seat beside the other, “You're his closest friend, Satori. Of course I didn't want you finding out either, you'd tell him in a heartbeat if I didn't stop you.”

“And now I _do_ know and I don't understand why you wouldn't tell him.”

“Because I can't.” Semi hisses out, folding his arms like a petulant child.

Tendou makes a noise, somewhere between a whine and a groan, throwing his hands toward the heavens, “I need you to work with me here Eita-kun.” He turns to face Semi, closing the distance between them as he laid a hand on a shoulder, “No one knows what's going on in that little head of yours but you. You gotta talk to me.”

“Why are you so persistant?”

“Because you're my friend too? I care about you too Eita.” He pauses, lips pursed together in a thin line, “Who is it?”

“Who is what?”

“Who are you coughing up flowers for?” Tendou's eyes plead for an answer, his fingers tightening.

It takes a moment for the question to register, a disgusted grimace pulling at Semi's lips, “I’m not coughing up flowers for some _other_ person. They're for Wakatoshi.”

“Wha—then why aren't you talking to him?!”

He doesn't answer. Because how could he? What good would it do when he knew that it was wasn't worth the effort, when he had never been worth it in the first place.

All those smiles and gentle touches shared between them, long nights spent under the stars and whispering about their impending future, knowing looks exchanged in long drawn out meetings and fingers reaching out undearneath the table. Learning the boring little details of one another, just because. The budding blooms, picked at the peak of their beauty, laid out neatly waiting on mornings when Semi least expected it. It had all meant nothing in the end.

With trembling lips Semi voices a thought that he'd kept locked away for years, something he hadn’t dare speak for fear of exactly this, “I _love_ him Satori. I really, genuinely do, and there’s no use in trying anymore. Now I _know_ he doesn't feel the same.” The taste of bitter iron floods his mouth as his vision blurred, “It's not anyone's fault, but I know Wakatoshi would try and make it better, to lie and pretend that if he tries hard enough he could learn to love me and—and I don't want that. I don’t want the pity love, I don’t want him thinking if he tries hard enough he could cure me. I don't want him to feel forced, or that he has my blood on his hands.” He takes in a shuddering breath, nails digging into his palms, “I can't make him love me.”

A hot droplet slides down his cheek as Semi choked on his next words, “And I’d rather die before I let him force himself to.”

“Oh Eita.” A cool hand settles on the bare skin of his arms and Semi _crumbles._

Months of pain from hiding the little thorn embedded in his heart comes crashing down as Semi allows himself this one fleeting moment of weakness. Skinny arms wrap around him and pull him close as if to shield him from the ugly truth. Tendou makes little shushing sounds in his crown, whispering apologies as Semi allows himself to bury his face in the other's chest and his walls come down, silent sobs wracking his body.

They sit there for a long while, neither paying attention to the passage of time, and by some divine miracle they aren't interrupted. Tendou wipes away Semi's tears, hands gentle and loving, a somber helpless smile in place, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? Maybe you just misunderstood something?”

Shaking his head Semi sighs, “I don't think I could misunderstand anything. Wakatoshi is a simple man, and you and I both know he leaves very little room for misinterpretation,” he manages a light laugh, that had been the very reason that drew him to Ushijima in the first place. He was painfully honest and blunt to a fault; Ushijima would never be able to fake those types of feelings.

“I really think you should talk to him. If he hasn’t said it then you could definitely be misreading!” Semi doesn't respond, instead continuing to chew on his lip apprehensively, “Do you—do you want me to talk to him?” Tendou tentatively offers after a long moment.

Semi's heart seizes, shooting up to his throat.

“No!” He flies out of his seat, frantically rounding on Tendou, “You can't breathe a word of this to Wakatoshi. I’ll _never_ forgive you.”

“Okay, okay,” Tendou soothes, “I won't tell.” He promises, earnestly crossing his heart, “I swear.” He even offers one of his bright signature smiles, though the light doesn't quite reach his eyes.

°°°

Semi knows that it was unfair to silence Tendou, who had never even so much as lied to Ushijima before, let alone keep such a dark secret. Guilt gnawed at him as he sat across from Ushijima that night, barely picking at his food as he mulled over their conversation. He was doing what was best, it would only complicate things if Ushijima knew and if he were honest Semi would rather take this secret to the grave. They were fine as they were.

Eventually, Semi excuses himself from the table with nary a word, simply blaming the lack of appetite on the lethargy of a long day.

His concealment of the disease remained unbroken as the days passed. Semi begins to grow weaker as the illness ravaged his body. Shirabu can only do so much to relive him so he tries not to rely on the other too much. And Ushijima, his husband who still offered him scraps of affection that made his heart beat so fast it felt like it would burst, who still shared their bed at night, and who still continued treat him all the same was none the wiser.

If Ushijima noticed Semi's health declining, he didn't say anything, perhaps he couldn’t even be bothered.

Dying had always been the conclusion, Semi thinks late one night, while watching his husband slumber away beside him. He would die slowly of a broken heart, of unrequited love from the person who was supposed to love him unconditionally, giving him a happily ever after. It was too bad he wasn't living a fairytale.

It was a torturous way to go, his days left in the world unpredictably numbered. But he had made peace with it, choosing to enjoy whatever time he had left instead of mourning the time he did not get. He had done his job, married off to Ushijima in exchange for lasting relations between their families and lands, played the role he was always cast for and now he resigned himself to the inevitable end.

There was no use in getting caught up in what ifs. Someone new would come along to replace him soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I wanted to save this for UshiSemi day but then decided I can have the next chapter out for that since I split that one in two.
> 
> I feel like I'm very desensitized to my works so idk if this is actually sad so do this authoress a favor and tell me if its working.


	3. Chapter 3

Mid-Summer was fast approaching. The scorching heat climbing to its seasonal peak, bringing with it warm rains and gentle rumbles of thunders on tranquil nights.

Despite the long hot and sticky humid days the palace was alive and abound with an infectious energy. The harvest month had begun in the kingdom, meaning that alongside longer days one of the most celebrated and anticipated events of the year would soon be in full swing. People from across all over were making preparations and at the palace there was a whirlwind of commotion at all hours of the day, the clamoring, buzzing, enthusiasm nearly palpable as staff and residents rushed around making final preparations under watchful eyes.

One of the longest weeks of the year—right alongside New Years and other major holidays—was upon them and Semi too had his fair share of tasks to see to that kept him more than busy. Though hard and headache inducing it was one of the highlights of the harvest season and Semi was more than happy to tend to things other than paperwork and bureaucracy. A nice and needed break to be hands on with his staff. He fed off their energy, finding himself swept up in all the excitement and working himself up for the upcoming festivities.

Ushijima's birthday would arrive the following week, heralding in a week full of joyful merriment and activities as everyone celebrated their King's birthday. There would be people pouring into the city from all over—not to mention the flood of gifts from abroad—to partake in the seven-day event, hoping to catch a glimpse of their beloved king for that extra dose of luck and fortune.

Aside from the usual meetings and daily work of running a nation, tradition dictated that Ushijima attended various other, smaller, celebrations hosted in his honor. Starting with the temples and shrines to the open-air gatherings held on the city square he would be spending more time outside of the palace than in, keeping him away whilst Semi finished the preparations for the final and most grand night of the week.

In a strange twist of events in the weeks leading up to the gala their roles had reversed. It was Ushijima who waited up at night, seeking out Semi and ushering him to bed when most of the palace was peacefully asleep, lips pressed together in concern whenever he found him hunched over and asleep at his desk. And it was now Semi who was first to rise in the early mornings, leaving Ushijima to wake to cold sheets and the lingering scent of jasmine and petrichor.

If he were honest, Semi would say that their sudden reversal was a blessing in disguise. The bustle a much-needed distraction from the constant ache of his chest, the phantom itch irritatingly constant like a bad brush with ivy. And the less he saw of Ushijima the better for all parties involved.

°°°

The golden glow of crystal chandeliers illuminates the massive, opulent ballroom, bouncing off the shimmering tiles and immaculate décor, painstakingly curated by Semi himself for the occasion.

Fresh cut anemones and roses wrapped up in fern decorated the tables and strung along the walls. Their rich colours contrasting with the pure white of the tablecloths. All of which Complemented by the elegant little orbs of magick that floated about, tinkling and shimmering as they caught the light—a little trick he had learned as a child from his mother to entertain him.

It was a gratifying thing, seeing the fruits of his labour being enjoyed. It might be his grandest project yet. A swell of pride blooms in his chest as he listened to the excitable chatter. Semi is sure he’s hardly slept on the last few days but it was well worth it to see the awestruck throngs of guests as they entered. He can only hope Ushijima will enjoy them just as much.

Turning away from the hidden overlook Semi conjures a quick little mirror of ice. Checking himself over once more, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles of his shirt and adjusting the silver brooches pinned to the collars before descending the spiraling stairs to meet his husband halfway at the landing before they are to make their entrance.

Ushijima cut an imposingly handsome figure in his royal dress. The perfectly tailored black coat stretching across his broad shoulders, accentuating the sturdy muscle underneath and fitting around his arms quite well; and the matching clean pressed lines of his pants seemingly adding to his height. The decorative maroon sash—the only bit of royal regalia that Ushijima ever wore—was smartly adorned by a few choice pins and ribbons, complementing the similarly coloured cravat set atop his starch white shirt. Upon closer inspection one gilded pin on the sash stood out from the rest, neatly secured away from the others and right over his heart was a courting gift Semi had handpicked some years ago.

“Apologies for keeping you waiting.” Semi murmurs, coming to a stop beside Ushijima, facing forward as they waited.

Ushijima only smiles, reaching out to brush their fingers together just as the wide double doors open, presenting them to all those gathered.

“I present their majesties, King Ushijima Wakatoshi, and Prince consort Semi Eita.”

A raucous round of clapping erupts as they step past the threshold into the ballroom. Together they offer a bow of thanks to their guests before Ushijima turns to face Semi.

“May I ask for a dance?” He offers up a hand, a soft smile on his lips.

Sliding his hand into Ushijima's Semi tilts his head in acknowledgement, “Of course.”

Together, they gracefully descend the two steps required, people at either side parting to allow them a pathway to the dancefloor.

Ushijima never failed to begin each gathering by asking for a dance, they had done this every year since the beginning of their fledgling relationship. It had become a tradition of sorts, an expected routine.

They take their position, only allowing for a few moments of preparation before the music begins. It was a slow dance, nothing too complicated or flashy. Ushijima had never been one for grandiose. They glide across the floor, effortlessly in tune with the music and one another. Practiced and poised with years of formal lessons on display for all to see. Semi even hums along to the melody, savoring the moment as they put on their façade, pressed together as if it wasn’t just some show they were expected to put on. Ushijima’s hand was warm, fitting together with Semi's as if they had been carved from the same stone, his other hand was hot like brand against Semi's back, pulling him close as they spun to a particularly spirited movement.

If he was feeling delusional enough, Semi might even go as far as to say that Ushijima looked like he was having the time of his life dancing. Too bad he wasn't.

Eventually, the music comes to a close and with a practiced bow and tilt of their heads they exit the dancefloor, officially welcoming and inviting all their guests to dance the night way if they so please. Ushijima, hand still clutching Semi’s led him to the far end of the room, where the table usually reserved for just them awaited.

He only releases Semi when he goes to uncork a bottle of wine and pour two sparkling crystal glasses for them. Their fingers brush as he hands one to Semi, “It all looks radiant Eita.”

“Well of course. It’s a special day, you only turn 25 once. Quarter of a century old and wise.” He teases, casually brushing their shoulders together, raising his glass and clicking it against Ushijima's. The sweet summer wine tastes too floral for Semi's liking.

Ushijima makes a little humming noise, sipping at the wine, eyes scanning over the crowd before he speaks again, “Though perhaps not nearly as much as you do.”

Semi would be a liar if he said those words hadn’t made his heart flutter and breath hitch. He is left wordlessly gasping as Ushijima offered him a rare full smile, the kind where the corners of his eyes would scrunch up and the faint lines around his mouth became more pronounced.

It wasn't fair, how Ushijima could say those things so casually, as if he didn't know that it killed Semi when he did (he doesn't), a tiny part shriveling up and dying each time. But, yet, Semi couldn’t resist drinking up every little droplet of affection he could manage, as if it were enough to sustain him for all eternity.

Plants need both sunlight and water to grow strong and beautiful, too much or not enough of one or both would kill them surely, and Semi was just unfortunate enough to have never struck that perfect balance, having been long deprived of his basic necessities. If Semi was a dying plant than Ushijima should have been his sunshine and rain, it was just too bad Semi had never felt the warm rays or the quenching rainfall.

A small group of courtesans chooses then to approach them, breaking from the larger group and boldly trying to catch Ushijima's attention. Maybe in an attempt to whisk him away to some corner and entrap him into conversation that he was too polite to ever decline. They truly were like weeds: persistent and many.

Quashing that unusually bitter thought Semi schools his features into a pleasant smile a they near.

“Your majesty!” One of them calls, a pretty brunette not that much younger than them, long hair curled and pinned to the side, dressed in a flowing ivory gown. She was the daughter of a well-respected merchant. An heiress that was well liked amongst the families for her manners and linguistic skills. “Happy birthday.”

“Happy Birthday.” The others echo, all offering a bow in a show of respect.

“Thank you.”

“Everything looks just splendid doesn't it?” The son of a mid-tier noble comments. His black hair slick backed and mussed in an attractive manner; bright blue eyes complemented well by the muted colours of his suit. He was the second son of a pair of academics, all around well-educated and traveled despite being rather young at hardly twenty.

“That would be Eita's doing.” Ushijima motions towards him and as expected they shower Semi in complements if for nothing more than a show of basic decorum. But he accepts them graciously nonetheless, it wouldn’t bode well if he were rude.

“Your majesty, I’ve been meaning to raise this thought with you…”

Lifting the glass to his lips Semi sips away at his drink, swirling the ruby liquid in his mouth as he half listened to whatever was being prattled on about. Watching with a very mild interest in the all too predictable unfolding of events.

Any second one of them would ask Ushijima's opinion on a convoluted or absolutely asinine topic; one that no sane person would engage in seriously, let alone at a party. No one but Ushijima of course.

“We've had a very strange year so far haven't we? The weather has been a little rockier than usual and this past spring has been rather cold.”

“Indeed, it has.”

“Speaking of which have any of you heard about what’s been happening in the northern regions?”

A round of curious noises.

“So, apparently there has been sightings of a rare and exotic breed of seal along the chillier northern coast. Ones that haven't been spotted in recent decades! Maybe even centuries.”

“Oh! I saw an article about that recently.”

“There is a theory going around in some circles about the potential of re-evolution. That the subspecies bred themselves back from extinction. On the other hand there’s talk about it being an entirely new subspecies. Since…”

So the topic of choice tonight was animal breeding and comparing subspecies. Ushijima had always been fascinated with the mysterious workings of nature. No matter how much humans thought they understood the world there was always more to be discovered and learned. The relatively recent development and integration of magic into their daily lives was proof enough.

At some point one of them would notice that Semi was not particularly engaged and comment, making room for them to cut him loose from the group for the night.

“Ah, excuse my rudeness. We should probably take this conversation elsewhere? We'd love to hear your thoughts on the topics your Majesty.”

“Yes! Certainly, somewhere a little quieter where we can talk. And be out of his highness’ hair. We don't want to bore his Grace; Prince Eita should be free to enjoy himself while we talk.”

“Yes, I’m sure he would much rather be doing something else than listen to us discuss evolutionary habits.”

And then Ushijima would agree. Turning to press a kiss to Semi's cheek before departing from his side, leaving him to his own devices until late into the night, not even once sparing a glance back in his direction. As much as he loathes to release his husband Semi knows that he will have to; he had stopped being a priority when they married, Ushijima no longer needing to play courting games and appeasing Semi’s family. Sharp honey-brown eyes already searching the crowd for a familiar tuft of red or curly brown.

Might as well find some familiar company if that was the case.

_3…_

_2…_

_1._

“I apologize. But I will have to respectfully decline.”

Semi almost chokes on his wine.

_Wait, what?_

As discreetly as possible Semi wipes his mouth as he eyed Ushijima, taking care to check for stray drips of wine. The group accosting them sported matching bewildered expressions, not too unlike how Semi felt.

That wasn't supposed to happen.

Ushijima had thrown everything Semi knew to be their routine out the window. Scattering them like petals to the wind.

“O—oh of course your Majesty. Perhaps another time, please excuse us.” Looking more like lost ducklings than humans the group beats a hasty retreat, throwing odd looks their way as they returned to the larger group. Who watched on in curiosity.

Waiting until they were out of earshot Semi turns to Ushijima, a brow curiously raised and speaking over the rim of his glass, “What was that about? You always entertain them.”

“I am aware, yes.”

“So, then..?” Semi motions with a hand in encouragement. 

Ushijima takes his sweet time responding, taking another drink before he speaks, “It felt more appropriate to spend my time with you tonight. Is it a crime to wish to do so?”

_Yes? Why now?_

“No. Not at all.”

Clearing his throat Ushijima gently sets down his glass before offering his hand yet again, “Good. May I interest you in another dance?” Expectant eyes seemingly bore into Semi. Reaching deep into his soul and dragging it up to be seen.

Semi contemplates the offer. On one hand he was half convinced that there was catch, something else at play for such a sudden shift in their script. A part of him whispers that it is a trick, that there has to be some sort of deception at work. Why would Ushijima want to spend the night with him? But on the other hand…Ushijima seemed nothing but sincere. He waits patiently for an answer, unwavering and wholly confident as Semi agonized, turning over every interaction for the past month in his mind, seeking answers in what, he does not know.

He takes one more careful look at Ushijima. Eyeing him up and down, curiously examining for any sort of tell (not like he had much of one in the first place) and found nothing aside from the gentle smile and hand extended. The golden ring on his finger glinting in the light.

Fuck it all to high hell, Semi thinks, resolutely taking one last swig, draining his glass and savoring the warm trickle of alcohol into his system before accepting Ushijima's request. If he was going to die by this man then he might as well enjoy what he could. No point in leaving behind regrets.

(And it's not as if he could have ever denied Ushijima anything even if he wanted to.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I remember why I more or less dont write long fics. I usually end up hating everything I write about halfway through and overthink (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)
> 
> But I'm too deep now and while I may not like everything I will finish this because I'm not a quitter and I promised myself that I would never be an author that left unfinished fics behind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest I lowkey did not know where this chapter was going and I'm not happy with it but here we are.
> 
> I had originally planned things out differently but ended up changing some elements and I'm not particularly happy with it but I can't say that the original plan was any better either.

Behind them the clamor of the party fades to a low murmur, swallowed up by the serenely clear nighttime air and cool breeze. 

They had danced away the better portion of an hour, spending another one engrossed in conversation with friends. Ushijima had decidedly stuck to Semi's side all through out, never once abandoning him as he thought he would—even when approached by many others in attempts. 

Semi couldn’t say the last time they had spent so much prolonged time in one another’s company. It was a strange but lovely feeling and he greedily reveled in it.

Though Ushijima had never been a man for much conversation—Semi is sure that the courtesans did more talking at than talking with—he was at least visibly more at ease with friends around. Tendou spends a great deal of time rehashing another story about his time in a seaside town and how the fresh briny air had made the local chocolate even more mouthwateringly delectable. 

They were having a spectacular time, so it came as a surprise when Ushijima grasped his hand asked for a moment alone.

“Thank you for tonight. Though I regret that I haven't seen you much lately Eita.” Ushijima speaks as they leisurely meandered through a secluded corner of the west wing gardens. Smaller than the one in the eastern wing where Semi had his long conversation with Tendou, but more decorated for the enjoyment of visitors.

“Well, I’ve been busy as you can see.” Semi waves a hand vaguely in the direction of the bright lights of the far-off ballroom. “A party for over 100 guests is a bit of work.”

“I am aware. But, you’ve been…different lately. Preoccupied with something else.” Dark olive eyes study Semi, searching for what he doesn’t know, but Semi does know that he won’t give up answers that easily.

“I haven't the slightest idea of what you’re talking about.” He hums, leading them to an empty bench at the far end by the pavilion. Feigning innocence as a diversion was an invaluable skill Semi had learned over the years. It worked wonders when he needed to get out of conversations he would rather not partake in, and Ushijima hardly—if ever—pressed. “In any case it probably wasn’t important.”

Ushijima seems to mull over those words for a moment, his passive thinking face making an appearance and Semi feels a fond tug at his heart.

“Regardless, I must apologize for being neglectful of you.”

Semi laughs incredulously, shaking his head, “Wakatoshi. We're royals. The fact that I’m even able to catch you for a conversation in the middle of the day is a miracle half the time. Don’t worry so much about things like that.”

He resists the urge to reach out and flick the other's forehead in a childishly reprimanding sort of way. To anyone else it might have seemed like Ushijima was attempting to assuage his own guilty feelings or whatever, but Semi knows better. Ushijima was truly apologetic because he was a simple man who took his duty as King almost too seriously. He did his job with a mighty gusto day in and day out, never giving anything but his all no matter the obstacle, and if the duty required being a husband he would strive to do so earnestly without a second thought.

It was one of the many things Semi admired about him.

Semi thinks that many would come to resent their spouse if they were in his shoes, and he could understand. However, he could never bring himself to feel anything but genuine and honest love for Ushijima, despite the love sickness eating away at his heart and health and sending him to an early grave.

Clearing his tight throat a little too forcefully Semi makes to stand, swallowing the succor sweet lump and stifling the little twinge in his chest, brushing off the intruding thoughts and nonexistent dust from his trousers, “We should probably head back. The guests must be sorely missing the guest of honor.” He offers a hand to Ushijima, smiling as it is accepted and his husband stands, straightening out his jacket.

°°°

It was late and the moon had risen high when their last guest is shown to their room, all others having retired or left the palace premises not long before. Ushijima had been shooed away as soon as the doors closed, Semi insisting on overseeing the rest of the work—it _was_ still his birthday after all.

The staff is dismissed soon after, with the ballroom mostly cleaned up and the remaining tasks to be dealt with in the morning. They all deserved some well-earned rest and Semi makes a mental note to have some thank you gifts ordered for their hard work.

He takes his sweet time ambling down the deserted inner hallways, enjoying the calm silence after a long day of bustle and noise. His feet ached just a tad, even the most comfortable shoes that money could buy didn’t stand a chance against endless hours of dancing and milling about. Semi is sure that he will hardly want to be walking anywhere tomorrow.

He passes by a pair if guards, who bow their heads on respect before continuing on their rounds when a strange feeling called to him. The hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge and luring him away from his path. Semi couldn’t place the beckoning sensation, but he followed it anyways. It was probably nothing but his tired mind’s tricks but he’d check just in case.

His feet take him to the solarium at the far end of a winding hallway, where he oddly finds Ushijima. Still dressed in his dress formals regalia and all. He stood beside a guard, the dim lamp lights of the room allow Semi to make out a face; a guard that had been a new hire nearly a year prior and had taken to being rather friendly with Ushijima. Ever since he had joined the guard staff at the palace he had made himself Ushijima's second shadow, following him around at all hours and always first to come when called. Semi had chalked it up to simple ambition of upward mobility in the King’s Guard.

With his mind satiated Semi had every intention of leaving the two to whatever it was that they were doing when a movement in the shadows of a far corner by the balcony catches his eye. A glint of silver causes Semi's breath to catch, a pit drops into his stomach. Time seems to slow as his body moves on instinct, a wave of his hand summons a barrier just in time to shield his husband from the impending blow aimed at his neck.

“Guards!” Semi’s shouts, voice echoes down the hallway, already dashing toward Ushijima.

He hopes that someone had heard him, if not then he is confident that between Ushijima and himself they could quickly subdue the attackers.

Ushijima takes the opportunity Semi bought him to wrangle the hastily drawn sword out of the traitorous guard's hand, his sheer weight and height already giving him an advantage in their struggle.

The second would be assassin throws a knife that—thankfully—misses by a wide breadth in Semi's direction.

_Sloppy work._

Snatching up the knife Semi curses his lack of a better weapon forcing him on the defensive, ducking and twisting out of reach when he sorely wished to properly parry blows. He wasn’t keen on having to kill a person and thus his usage of magical artes was limited. The assassin takes aim at Semi's chest, carving a wide arc far too close for comfort. 

Semi aims the knife right at the assassin's shoulder, barely grazing the fabric and catching their attention, giving Semi the chance to lob a swirling orb of air at the attacker, pushing them off the ground and flinging them against a table. They groan and stay down.

He turns quickly on his heel, heart beating fast and huffing out panicked breaths. He finds Ushijima standing over the guard, more less without a scratch. Brilliant olive greens turn toward Semi, relief flooding them before twisting into…into horror?

“Eita—!”

Semi spins, coming face-to-face with the charging attacker. The knife pierces his abdomen swiftly and cleanly and the searing pain that follows but a prick compared to the sudden sting of tendrils of mana flowing freely from Semi's body. A crackling in the air akin to the break of glass fills his ear and the hair on his body stands in response.

In the next moment his attacker is flung to the other end of the room, unconscious and the blade previously embedded in his body lying on the ground.

Footsteps quickly rush in behind them, the guards finally arriving, though perhaps just a moment too late. “Apprehend them.” He commands, pressing a hand to his side and bending over to pick up the abandoned weapon, carefully handing it off to another guard, “I want that locked up. Careful, there’s a charm attached to it.”

“Of course Your Grace.” With a bow the guard makes a hasty departure.

“Eita.” 

“Are you alright, Wakatoshi?”

“I’m fine. Your side—”

“Don't be too concerned, it's nothing.” Semi knows that it was a blatant lie. Even the blind could see that he was not at all fine, his body swaying and the heavy smell of iron was worrying at best. Grasping at the wound, with crimson blood dripping down on the fine marble tile Semi attempts to take a step, only to have his vision swim and stagger forward and into Ushijima's waiting arms. His shell-shocked expression would have been amusing if Semi hadn’t been so lightheaded.

“Find a healer, _immediately.”_ Ushijima hisses out to a low tone to a nearby guard. One that promised unspeakable things should his wishes not be fulfilled.

Ushijima gently—more gently than Semi could recount in recent memory—gathers him up in his arms, holding tightly as he pressed a hand to the wound. Desperately trying to stop the blood flow and repair the damage. The warm flow of magick tickled and numbed the ache somewhat, Ushijima's fingers slowly became soaked in the liquid. It was a basic healing arte and Semi knows that it won't work.

Not even royalty could cheat Death.

“Hey, hey. Wakatoshi, stop. Don't waste your energy.”

“Nonsense.” He calmly replies, eyes growing wider and breath coming out in hitched puffs. “Once the healers arrive, we'll have the wound closed and you'll be able to rest in our room.”

“I don't think that’s possible.”

“You will be fine.” The tone leaves little room for argument.

Placing a hand over his husband's Semi huffs out a sigh, his breath starting to become irregular and eyelids beginning to droop, the last of the adrenaline bleeding out of his system, “Wakatoshi,” he begins, “you can't save me. That knife was charmed with something, it took out all most of my mana. There's nothing I can even do for myself.”

“I have never known you to be weak Eita. You will be fine.” He insists, pressing harder on the gaping wound despite the continued flow of fresh blood. By now Semi's clothes had been drenched in the sticky liquid, the pale gauzy material drowning in red, no doubt staining Ushijima's as well.

Even Ushijima should have known that he was losing too much blood.

They lapse into a tense silence. Ushijima's fingers unknowingly dig into the flesh where he held Semi, short nails biting at skin and leaving crescent indents, the sharpness helps to ground Semi. With each passing second Semi’s body grew heavier, a bone deep exhaustion sinking in. Ushijima kept throwing glances over his shoulder, checking for help that would probably come too late. Semi knows that he’s quickly running out of time.

“Sorry that I ruined your birthday.” It was a halfhearted attempt at easing the heavy atmosphere at best, but Semi had never liked the lines of worry marring his husband's face.

It seemed to work to some degree, Ushijima's face softened a fraction, a hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair away from Semi's forehead, “You did no such thing.”

Ushijima checks the door once more, the lines of his forehead growing more pronounced each passing second. Semi think desperation does not befit him. He sorely wishes he wasn't the reason why.

“Hey, Wakatoshi? Can I ask for something?” Semi tentatively voices after a long moment of thought. There was nothing left to lose and Semi wasn't fond of the idea of leaving behind regrets.

Thick brows knit together as Ushijima regarded him, “Of course. Anything.”

With a wry, rueful smile Semi sucks in a deep breath and asks for the one thing he had always been too afraid to, “Hold me close.”

He doesn't dare ask for more, as it would be unsightly and he still had some of his pride.  
A cough forces its way from his throat, despite all of Semi's attempts to keep it at bay, the burning itchy sensation telling him it was the disease making itself known. Exacerbated by the close proximity and Semi's inability to reason with his heart, even near death his treasonous body couldn’t allow him one last little secret.

A stray petal falls from his lips and lands in his hand.

He laughs bitterly as he holds it up for Ushijima to see.

“I don't know if the blood is from the wound or the disease. But I suppose it doesn't really matter in the end, does it?”

With shaking hands and confused eyes Ushijima reaches for the delicate thing. Grasping its silky soft texture between his fingers.

“Eita—”

“I guess there really is no use in hiding it anymore. I don’t think I have to spell it out for you, but,” Semi can feel the cold starting to seep into his fingers and he leans closer, trying to savor the warmth for a moment longer. He had always hated being cold, “thanks, Wakatoshi. For these last few years. It was more than I could have asked for given our circumstances. You always were kind despite being stuck with me and before you start apologizing, it's not your fault I fell for you.

“I really really loved you, maybe I’ve always loved you. And for a second there I thought you did too. Or at least you tried to. And that that’s more than what I could have asked. I honestly wasn't surprised when I started coughing up flowers.”

“Eita, why didn't you tell me?”

Semi shrugs, smiling to himself, coughing into his hand to reveal more flowers and blood.

“Didn't see the point. Couldn't make you love me, and I was happy enough as we were.”

“Eita—”

“Thanks for all the time you’ve given me…and I'm sorry that it didn’t work out. But at least now you're free.”

Semi leans up, it was his turn now to place the chaste kiss upon Ushijima's cheek. It was naught more than a brush, feather-light and gentle—carrying all his unspoken feelings and wishes, imbuing Ushijima with a protection charm that could only be born from a genuine love. One last little spell with whatever he had left in him. He hopes that whatever fate had in store for his husband that it would be kind and bring him unfathomable joy; he deserved that much at least.

Semi tries to wipe the stain of red off Ushijima's skin but finds that his arms won't listen and his eyes quickly growing heavy and weary. The world around him tilts as dark spots danced in his vision, he can hardly make out the sounds, his ears filling with a sudden dizzying buzz.

“Eita? Eita!” Ushijima's voice sounded so far away.

Semi wants to offer a reassuring smile to ease his frantic husband's calling but he is only able to muster enough energy to part his lips for one more breath.

“It'll be okay…I love you, Wakatoshi.”

The final petal falls as the light in his eyes dim and grows glassy, heavy lids fluttering closed and Semi goes limp, his head lolling back as the hand he tries to raise falls to his side.

“Eita? Eita!” Ushijima calls frantically, searching for a pulse as he shook his husband.

“Please don't leave me…” Ushijima whispers between broken sobs, clutching his beloved's body. He weeps, guilt washing over him like a tide, ready to sweep him out and bury him at sea.

It is then that he feels something welling up inside him, a swell of unimaginable power and an unmistakable surge of energy and emotions, urging him to act, whispering in his mind and offering solutions he was unaware existed. 

_Anything,_ he would give anything to undo this act of fate.

The chilling echo of the midnight bell tolled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might come back and rewrite the chapter later. Might rewrite the entire story, who knows? All misunderstandings will be resolved soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and please feel free to leave a kudo or comment! ♡ 
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@Arlanaaaahhhh](https://twitter.com/arlanaaaahhhh)


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